4. In The Flesh
CHAPTER FOUR
IN THE FLESH
Ruby
In under twelve hours, I’m back at the manor.
I started at the Combover at five o’clock this morning. I smell like a cocktail of bacon and syrup and am sporting a coffee stain that resembles the state of Florida. It is what it is. I need to get my paperwork squared away and get back to the greasy spoon and out of the silver one.
I apologized to the office manager for my current perfume and attire and dove into the paperwork.
Devon Donnelly is a generous employer. Back in the city, the bar owners had too many choices of entertainment, and we relied on tips. Some nights were great, others weren’t.
I have no clue how the tips will pan out, but with what Devon is willing to shell out for entertainment, I won’t have to stress it.
And I’ll be able to pay out the remainder of my lease on my apartment without an eviction on my credit history.
Once that’s taken care of, I can reassess. I’m not sure when I can leave Winslet.
Time will tell. Boredom will probably set in or something new and shiny will come along. My homecoming will be a distant memory for everyone.
That’s the way it plays out in my dreams. It’s my only strategy. I have no choice but to go with it.
For the time being, I’m here and need to make a living. I refuse to mooch off my grandma. Lord knows my mother did it her whole life.
I sign the form for direct deposit into the new bank account I opened yesterday and turn to the office manager. “I think that’s it. Thank you for meeting me this morning, and I’m sorry again for smelling like a deep fryer.”
She smirks as she collects the paperwork. “Not gonna lie, now I’m hungry for Carl’s special of the day, and I don’t even know what it is.”
Before we have a chance to say goodbye, Devon stops me in the hall. “Ruby, you’re still here. I have an idea. Could you stay for a few minutes for me to run it by you?”
I look down at myself and cringe, but I can’t say no to the man who tripled my pay in small-town America compared to the big city.
He might not know that, but there’s a sense of obligation that makes me stay no matter how I look or smell.
“I need to get back to the Combover for the lunch crowd, but I’m sure Carl can handle things for a few more minutes. ”
“Terrific. Follow me.”
I pull my purse up my shoulder and follow him to the conference room we used after our set last night. But when Devon clears the doorway, I stop in my tracks.
Light brown eyes the color of a rich caramel that melts the moment it hits your tongue spear my heart like a dagger.
I was obsessed with those eyes.
I’ve tucked the memory of them away in the deepest corners of my heart. I only visit when I’m at my lowest or feel the need to punish myself for making it to the ripe old age of thirty-two and being a failure at life.
They’re everything I remember and then some. The some part ... well, that is what’s different.
Scorn and loathing mixed with a good helping of hate pin me to my spot.
I haven’t seen him in the flesh for over a decade.
Gone are the boyish good looks that haunt my dreams. I’ve seen pictures of him.
How could I not? After all, there is that pesky thing called the internet that’s always there to break your heart just a little bit more than you’ve managed to do on your own.
Even though he’s sitting, he seems taller and wider and more ruggedly handsome than ever.
Memories and the internet don’t do him justice.
His sport jacket and crisp dress shirt are the male version of couture.
His shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and gives casual vibes even though he’s anything but that at the moment.
“Ruby, this is Payne Deacon. He runs an investment management firm in town, but it’s nationally known.
We’re setting up an appreciation weekend for his top clientele.
After your set last night, I wonder if we could incorporate a private performance.
” Devon is clueless and speaks like he hasn’t just busted open the poisonous can of worms that will surely be my demise.
“You haven’t met Felicity Fahnestock yet. She’s in charge of special events.”
Felicity bites her lip. “Oh dear. Oh my.”
I force myself to pull a shallow breath into my stale lungs. “It’s good to see you, Felicity.”
Felicity’s widened eyes dart back and forth between Payne and me from behind her glasses. “You, too, dear. You’re more beautiful than ever.”
And with that, my mind goes back to my appearance and the aroma rolling off me in waves. I cross my arms in hopes they will cover the coffee stains and take a step back, but I don’t forget my manners. “Thank you.”
Devon rolls out a leather conference chair and motions to me. “I forget everyone knows everyone around here. Have a seat.”
I remain frozen in my spot. “That’s okay. I—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Payne sits stock-still other than the pad of his thumb slowly circling the one of his index finger. It’s like he’s itching to leap across the room and wrap his hands around my throat to do me in once and for all.
Well, it’s good to know where I stand. The sole reason I’ve stayed away from Winslet this long proves the water is not under the bridge. Nope. That water is churning and breaking against granite boulders so violently, it might as well pull me under and steal my last breath.
Devon proves he’s not from here nor does he care to understand the lore of Payne Deacon and me.
“Ruby is new to the manor. You might know Blake, her brother. They were a hit when they performed for the first time last night. You’re going all out for your clients.
I think live entertainment is the cherry you’re looking for. ”
Great. I’m the cherry.
Someone—anyone—kill me now and put me out of my misery.
I’m sure that’s the only favor Payne would move mountains to do.
I won’t have to worry about hiding out any longer.
I see my tombstone in bright theatrical lights: Here lies Ruby Mae Sinclair.
Wannabe Broadway singer who met her ultimate demise through pure mortification.
Felicity clears her throat. “How about I look into other acts in addition to the Sinclair siblings. That way you have some choices. Choices are always good. We strive to please all tastes.”
Payne’s deep voice is rough and curt. “I don’t want live entertainment.”
Devon frowns. “Are you sure? Who doesn’t like live music?”
Payne’s eyes shift to Devon. “I can tell you who doesn’t like it—me.”
I pull in a deep breath, plaster a fake smile on my face, and hate that my voice comes out four octaves higher than normal.
But I am me and can’t control my tongue.
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.
I’m no longer needed here. I’m sure your clients won’t question their choice to stick with the next generation of Deacons.
I’ll just get back to my day job and leave you to your mundane planning that includes no live entertainment, fun, and lacks all sense of joy. ”
A venomous smile settles on Payne’s lips, and he proves that one thing hasn’t changed in all these years—he doesn’t hold back. “Don’t worry about my joy, Ruby. I have plenty of it. Hell, I get plenty of it.”
“I can tell. Joy oozes from you like an infected gash to the side of the head.” And I drop my arms and pretend my shirt is a souvenir from a vacation to The Keys even though I’ve never set foot in Florida.
“Felicity, it was wonderful seeing you again. Please say hello to Harold for me. Devon, I’ll be here tonight ready to go.
But you, Payne, I will not see, since your love for music seems to have died when you transformed yourself into Owen Deacon two-point-oh. Your loss.”
A small squeak erupts from Felicity as she bites her lip and twists her fingers into a mess of knots with nervous energy.
Devon frowns, and I wonder if I’ve lost my job before I have the chance to earn my first paycheck.
And Payne...
If his head exploded, it wouldn’t surprise me. His temper simmers below the surface. I saw it back in the day, though this is the first time it’s ever been directed at me.
“What in the bloody hell?” Devon mutters.
I don’t stick around long enough to get fired. I’ll just show up tonight on time and hope for the best. I march my smelly, stained self out of the manor with my head held high. If I didn’t, I’d fall into a puddle on the floor in tears, and that is not an option.
The entire reason I’ve avoided Winslet has been thrown in my face. I was right to stay away.
Payne Deacon isn’t over it.
And seeing him in the flesh, it’s clear that I’m not either.
Payne
Fuck me.
My blood boils and not in a way that goes straight to my dick. But then again, I can’t remember the last time my blood has heated like that. No one has brought me even close to a simmer in years.
And I refuse to put a number on those years. It’s depressing as fuck.
I don’t remember the last time I’ve gotten into a verbal match with anyone outside of the courtroom. Quite honestly, I don’t give a shit about anyone enough to expend that kind of energy.
Or I didn’t think I did until now.
I clear my throat and do my best to get my shit together. “Seems like you two have everything under control. I think we’re done here.”
Devon gives me the palm of his hand. “Whoa. Not until you tell me what the hell that was about.”
Felicity lets out another hum before she singsongs, “Mr. Donnelly, you’re not from here, which is why no one can blame you for suggesting live entertainment for Payne’s event.
It’s a good idea ... in theory. Honestly, it would be a great idea if it were anyone but Ruby.
Everyone knows that. Well, everyone but you. ”
“That’s old news,” I bite.
Devon leans back in his chair and levels his discerning eyes on me. “Obviously not.”